Destined Chance
by StarryNight359
Summary: STAND-ALONE IRREGULAR UPDATES With Uther desperate enough for an heir to sacrifice his wife, nothing will stop him from having a son, not even his child's true gender. But what if his 'son' meets her destiny and falls in love? Time-wise the plot begins at the start of season 3, then deviates to a different story line. fem!Arthur/Merlin pairing.
1. Birth of the Heir

So I decided to rewrite this since I didn't like the way I wrote this before and also coz I wrote myself into a dead end. Please enjoy and review :)

Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately.

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_Deep inside a long forgotten cave ancient crystals spring to life. The glow is subtle but grows stronger by the second, gaining power until they once again have acquired the brilliance the once had. They begin to hum in something like joy and each surface of every crystal lights up gold. The gold begins to flicker rapidly with other colours until they run into one another. When the colours once again become bright white, the crystals slowly settle as the glow simmers down. They flicker dimly as they wait - time has been rewound and the whole world stills as the wheels of destiny begin to turn anew…_

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**Birth of the Heir**

"Sire, the queen has gone into labour!"

The midwife burst into the council chamber unannounced. An older council member shot her a look full of hostility at the interruption but the young king stood up at once.

"The meeting in postponed." he hastily announced before following the midwife to the birthing chamber. There his beautiful wife lay in a wide bed with a small smile on her lips. He returned it and rushed to her side to clasp her hand in worry when her face twisted into a grimace.

"I'm so glad…you're here." she gasped in pain when a contraction ran through her petite body and the king let her grip his hand to the point of pain. He knew it was nothing compared to hers.

"You're doing well, Your Majesty! Just one more push!" the midwife told her and the queen could only give a stiff nod as she strained to do as she was asked. The king's eyes never left her brilliant ice blue ones and he winced in sympathy when she whimpered in pain. A high-pitched scream pierced the air and both parents looked at the bloody bundle the midwife was holding.

"It's a healthy baby girl." she told them with a broad smile, placing his daughter into the king's arms. He grinned like a fool, unable to contain his bliss although a small nagging thought in the back of his mind bothered him. He needed an heir, a _son _- but, no. He shook his head. Not only did he have a beautiful wife but his first child was born alive and healthy. It was anything anyone could wish for. Everything was perfect.

That was when it all went downhill.

He turned to face his wife with a wide grin but it dropped off instantly at the sight of her. The king hastily shoved the baby at a by standing servant girl.

"Ygraine!" he called desperately. His wife's eyes had rolled back in her head and she was deathly pale. She was unnaturally still and only her shallow breathing provided proof that she was alive. The king glanced at the midwife sharply.

"Do something!" he bellowed and the poor woman shrank back at his wrath.

"I'm sorry, sire. There's nothing more I can do for her." she stammered pointing at the blood pooling between his wife's legs. "She won't stop bleeding."

He stared at the growing puddle in horror but snapped his gaze back to Ygraine when he felt a faint pressure squeezing his hand.

"Please, Uther. Take care of…our daughter…Take care of…Artura…" she rasped weakly, her eyes amazingly clear in the face of death. Uther bent down to her face and shook his head in defiance.

"No. I won't let you die. Nimueh!" he shouted sideways. The called for sorceress appeared suddenly, her head inclined. As her crystalline eyes caught sight of the dying queen they filled with tears. Uther didn't let go of his wife's hand and looked up at her pleadingly. "Please save her. Use your magic."

Nimueh looked down at the man she knew would soon be broken and shook her head.

"You know I cannot."

Uther had no time respond because at that precise moment his wife's grip on his hand slackened.

"Ygraine!" he cried out, tears spilling over as he took his wife's blank face in between his hands. He sobbed over her still form as he tried to kiss her back to life. "No, you can't leave me. I need you!"

A sound life soft footsteps coming toward the bed made him look up in despair. It was the servant girl from before who was now holding out his daughter to him tentatively.

"The princess, Your Majesty." the young girl stuttered but stepped back at his murderous expression.

"Take it away, I don't want to see it! It killed my wife!"

"Uther, she's the only piece you have left of her. Don't deny Ygraine her last request." Nimueh said quietly from behind him, laying a soothing hand on his shoulder. The king shook it off angrily and then strode over to the baby. He stared down on it in a mixture of disgust and fury until it opened its eyes.

They were the same brilliant ice blue as Ygraine's, Uther's beloved wife.

He felt his anger slip away at the sight of that colour but then something else simmered up inside him. The king rounded on Nimueh who looked shocked and backed away until she hit a wall.

"Guards." he called quietly, watching with cold eyes as they followed his gestures to arrest her. She could only give him a shocked stare. "Put her in the dungeons."

"Uther!" she protested but one icy glare silenced her.

Nimueh felt her insides freeze at his glare and found herself unable to move when the guards dragged her away.

* * *

"_You _did this. _You _killed her." Uther said dangerously low. The dungeon's torch flames flickered as if they could feel Nimueh's fear when he slid his sword out of its sheath.

"No, her death was out of my hands. I told you before - a life for a life, that is the price to be paid." she told him with a trembling undertone. Her explanation fell on deaf ears and Uther's green eyes grew cold.

"So you deny your obvious crime? I let you into my household. I trusted you. And this is how you repay me? By murdering the one I love the most?"

Now the sword was right at Nimueh's throat and she swallowed as she looked up.

"Magic is evil." Uther hissed into her face. Her crystalline eyes grew as hard and cold as ice at his words. She knew him to be stubborn and there was nothing that could change his mind now.

"No, Uther Pendragon. Magic isn't evil but you have the capacity to be." she told him in a mixture of disappointment, fury and sadness. Uther shouted in rage at her claim and moved to stab her to death right on the spot but her eyes flared a bright gold and she was suddenly behind him. "From this day onward, I will be the your enemy. Mark my words Uther Pendragon - Camelot will fall under your tyranny!"

!YY!

_She stared at the shiny surface of her cup. Her reflection simply returned her blank stare. It was a sight she had seen all her life - her closely cropped, light golden brown hair and creamy peach skin, the classically beautiful features that defined the royal family..._

_They were visible despite the yellow hue brass added to it all, such as her straight nose and full lips. Her icy blue eyes slid from her breakfast tray to the clothes which had been laid out for her._

_How she hated them._

_The corset, specifically made just for her, hurt. The pain never went away but it always intensified when she wore it._

_Her gaze caught on a polished decorating shield mounted on the wall as she passed it. A painful jab added to the corset's discomfort. Her eyes flickered and she looked away. The brilliant blue of the sky outside her window drew her attention. It reminded her of yesterday's spectacle and left a sour taste in her mouth. She hated executions._

_She nodded at the guards stationed outside her room before making her way to the training field. On her way there she encountered a new knight-to-be, judging by his clothes, arguing with a servant. As she drew closer she recognised him as her personal servant and wasn't surprised to hear him use a rather arrogant tone. He grinned when he saw her._

_"Ah, your highness." he greeted her mockingly. The knight whirled around and gave a hasty bow which was more than the servant did. A glare was exchanged between the two of them and she cleared her throat._

_"What seems to be the problem?"_

_The knight opened his mouth to explain when her servant interrupted him with a smug smile._

_"This so called noble tried to give me orders. Don't you know I've got more than enough chores to do? I'm very busy." She raised an eyebrow at this statement as the servant's hands were empty and he didn't look otherwise occupied at all. He continued oblivious to this with his glee filled gaze on the red-faced knight. "I'm not your servant nor is it one of my duties to do anything for you. Only my master may give me orders."_

_He laughed when the young knight's mouth opened and closed comically. The servant then glanced at her with a wide grin._

_"Don't you agree that punishment is in order?"_

_The poor young knight paled when she threw him a fleeting glance and she directed her icy gaze back to her servant. No matter how long he had been in her services, she still despised his self-important attitude._

_"What would you suggest?" she asked pleasantly and he shrugged._

_"You could use him as target practice. Knights only need to learn how to run away, don't they?"_

_The knight gaped in anger while she forced herself to keep smiling._

_"Very well. Then fetch me the target and knives needed." she commanded, sending the frightened knight a reassuring smile._

_"But they're so heavy!" the servant protested. She glared at him frostily and he stilled._

_"Now."_

_He ran without another word and when he came back the knight was shaking. She would have to teach him that showing his emotions freely like that could kill him in battle, she mused._

_Her servant, however, looked very smug and gleeful when he gave her several knives before placing the target without much care. She looked it over before turning to him._

_"Move it." she told him and he gave her an irritated look._

_"What for? I'm not the one being punished." he spat and she narrowed her eyes to slits._

_"Just because you are my servant does not give you the right to be disrespectful to others. So he won't be the one receiving punishment."_

_When he still looked clueless as to what to do at her gesturing at the target she sighed._

_"Where's the target?" she asked in a too bright voice in an attempt to sound patient, confusing him even more. Looking thoroughly like he had lost any sense of what she was saying, her annoyance grew. _

_The following few minutes she nearly forgot about the sense of wrongness that had been bothering her since yesterday. But then she was reminded of something else, something that was always present no matter how much she wished it wasn't._

_"Who do you think you are - the king!" the younger boy exclaimed. She had been more intrigued than irritated by this 'Merlin's antics which may have been due to his strange colouring - skin the palest white, raven black hair and eyes of a startling midnight blue - or the fact that he didn't seem to know who she was. But now his comment forced her to say it._

_"No. I'm his son." The bitter edge on the last word was lost to the boy as his shock was lost to her. She continued with barely concealed fury and hate in her voice. "Arthur."_

Ara woke with a gasp and drew in a shuddering breath to calm her hammering heart. Sitting up she held a hand to her chest, the cool skin feeling clammy beneath her touch. Her other hand went up to the red stone hung on a leather string around her neck and she sighed in relief as she relaxed. It felt soothingly warm; it made her feel safe. Letting herself sink back into the hard mattress that was her bed Ara cast her thoughts back to the dream she had just had. It wasn't the first time she had woken from it like it was a nightmare with the feeling of viewing something real. A memory.

Her appearance always differed from her actual looks; she couldn't remember ever her hair being any shorter than the waist length it had nor wearing a corset that uncomfortable and restricting. She twirled a golden brown curl around a long, graceful finger absentmindedly as she stared at the ceiling, her dream once again playing in front of her inner eye. It stopped when she remembered that first good look she always dreaded and anticipated into the boy's eyes. A clear midnight blue which may not have had a peaceful night's stars but that sparkle instead, full of life and mischief. A terrible longing filled her and nearly made her cry out with loss.

I miss him, Ara thought desperately, I miss them.

Shooting upwards into a seated position, she shook her head resolutely so that her head full of golden brown curls bounced across her back. She had no business missing a figment of her imagination. She swung her legs out of bed so her feet met the cold stone floor and took a deep breath before crossing the room to get ready for her day.

It was only later when Ara recalled that feeling she had had and wondered.

Them?

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Yes, I will be continuing with this since I've found which direction I want to go now. I won't promise a long story becuase I seem to be better at oneshots so bear with me please if updates become irregular :)


	2. King of Fools

Chapter 2! Sorry if this is confusing, I read over it again to make sure it's not too bad but since I actually know what I mean, pm me if you need me to clear things up :)

Disclaimer: same as chapter 1

Enjoy ^^

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**King of Fools**

"It has been _nearly two years_, Merlin! We need to find him!" Uther's fist slammed onto the council table and he glared at the named warlock sitting across from him. Geoffrey spilled some ink over the scroll he was using to record the meeting at the impact of it. He scowled at small black puddle soaking through the precious paper and made to clean it up in whichever way he could while the young man being spoken to coolly looked over that the furious king.

"I know that just as well as you do, Uther." Merlin said calmly, waving away a servant girl with a warm smile. The elderly knights surrounding the two men glanced and whispered to each other as Uther's mint green eyes narrowed. He had not missed the way the warlock had emphasised the use of his name instead of his title but he couldn't say anything against it. The other man could kill him with not so much as a fleeting thought after all. He was simply being cautious. Or at least that was what he told himself.

"I am aware of that." Uther tried to sound calm but his fist clenched in his lap. "But he's my only child, my _heir_."

Merlin looked up from the plans lying in front of him at the sound of genuine worry in Uther's voice. His eyes lost some of the hardness they had acquired since Arthur's disappearance. Uther may be a king but he had well and truly passed the peak of his glory. If not for his son's sudden disappearance after winning the control of Camelot back from Morgana last year, he may have well succumbed to madness over grief. This way Uther had had to pull himself together, if not for the kingdom then for the love he bore his son.

"I am doing anything I can to find him." Merlin said softly, seeing the lines in his face and the white his hair was turning. "Arthur _will _come back."

Uther's eyes drilled into Merlin's sincere ones and he finally nodded wearily.

"I hope so, warlock." he replied in kind and stood. The rest of the council members followed, Merlin as the last. "Council meeting dismissed."

Geoffrey hastened ahead of everyone else while Merlin was once again last to leave. The boy who had grown into a young man glanced back at the king who was sitting on his throne once more, gaze lost outside the window and most likely wondering about the whereabouts of Arthur.

Merlin sighed and shrugged into his coat, minding the sun's position in the sky. He still had time for a short visit to a dear friend.

!YY!

"Merlin, my boy! How have you been?" Gaius greeted his ward warmly, carefully setting down a phial of…something before coming over and hugging the warlock. Merlin returned the old physician's hug and smiled as he drew back.

"Well enough, I suppose. Still no sign of Arthur though."

Gaius nodded seriously and gestured a Merlin to sit down as he set a kettle full of water over the fire to boil.

"Yes, these are troubled times." he sighed heavily and joined Merlin on the bench. "I fear the king has not much longer left to live."

Merlin stared at him in shock.

"What? He seemed healthy enough today."

"Well, he has his good days and bad days. The first have become rather scarce recently." Gaius explained, fiddling with the phial on the table. Merlin listened intently. "Arthur's disappearance has taken a greater toll on him than he cares to admit."

"Surely you can cure him, Gaius. There's not much sickness that can be seen about him." Merlin protested at the sound of defeat in his mentor's voice. The old man shook his head slowly as he rose to the whistling on the teakettle.

"Uther's sickness is of the mind, not the body. The body can be cured as long as it does not affect the head. But if the mind is affected, it poisons the body."

The physician poured the hot water into two cups and added some tealeaves before putting it down on the table and pushing Merlin's tea toward him. He wrapped his hands around the cup but did not drink. He stared at his mentor hard as he took a sip.

"Poison can be purged." Merlin stated and Gaius gave a single nod in agreement.

"That it can. But the only thing that could purge it and heal Uther's mind is Arthur's return." Gaius eyes searched Merlin's which had dropped to the tea in his hands. "If he is not found, the king will die, and soon."

!YY!

Cruel mint green eyes surveyed the scene playing out in the pool of water in front of her. She saw the servant-boy-turned-warlock mount his horse in Camelot Square and glared at the figures surrounding him hatefully. There was that drunk, Sir Gwaine, a joke of knight as he made an obscene gesture at Merlin and grinning like a fool. Then there was Sir Leon, behaving in a more dignified manner and simply shaking the warlock's hand once and firmly before smiling and stepping back. Sir Elyan copied his actions, saying something to Merlin who simply shook his head. The dark-skinned knight stepped back with a sullen look on his face. Last came Sir Lancelot, a somewhat sad smile on his face, mirrored by the servant girl, now a knight's wife, as the couple stepped forward.

"Gwen." Morgana couldn't help but hiss at the image in the water, the mocha-skinned woman wiping away her tears with a laugh as she stepped back from hugging the man on the horse. Sir Percival hung back, neither smiling nor crying, but simply impassively. Morgana tilted her head as she stared at him.

"Curious." she murmured. She glanced over at the bed beside the wall when a moan sounded. Getting up quickly, she abandoned her scrying and hurried to her sister's side. "Morgause?"

The blonde's head turned slightly, revealing the hideously scarred side of her face. Only her and Morgana knew that the scar went down the rest of her body and was spreading.

"Now's the time, sister." she croaked, her affected eye blindly gazing at nothing while her healthy eye looked up at Morgana intently. The dark brown glowed a bright gold. "I can feel it."

Calmed, Morgana nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed, softly stroking her sister's hair. The worry in her mint green eyes dissipated as she glanced over at the gone dark pool of water on the table. They became cold and unyielding as she thought about the unfairness of it all. She had had to hide herself, fear herself , because of Uther's hatred of magic. Yet where had it been when Merlin was discovered? Not only had he been left alive, he had gained a seat on Uther's council. The warlock was respected for what he was, not hated and shied away from like Morgana. And then there was that man's birthright. She sneered in contempt.

Let Merlin see what use magic and a crown were to him when he couldn't trust those around him. Where would the warlock be without his allies?

!YY!

Ara parried a blow from Agravaine's sword, the material of her shirt soaking with sweat and sticking to her body. She danced back and forth from the lord's blade; even though she had been training since before dawn she wasn't as exhausted as the older man. Agravaine was panting heavily, the black cloak making him much too warm as he tried to keep up with her pace. He had only been duelling her for scarce an hour and already he was at his limit.

Deciding to be merciful, Ara dodged a misplaced blow to her head, causing the man to lose his balance and fall over. She bent down to hold out her hand to him.

"Truce?"

Agravaine spat on the ground in answer and got up so fast that she was momentarily stunned. An unseen kick to her knees sent her sprawling to the ground. Next thing she knew her own sword's point was directed right at her face. Ara looked up into the grinning face of the lord.

"You were sharper back when you were a princeling." he said dismissively, throwing the sword aside. "Not as soft."

Ara glared at him and jumped up, ignoring his words. Her ice blue eyes raked his form as she pushed aside loose strands of golden brown hair which had escaped her braid. Agravaine's oily hair was as black as his clothes. His eyes were even worse; their inky black depths hid his cunning, further disguised by their small size and his stunted, blown up appearance. They made him look untrustworthy, just like his pudginess made him the likeness of a fat cat gone lazy.

She didn't like him at all; he made feel her sick.

Opening her mouth for a sharp retort, Ara's eyes glinted angrily when they were interrupted.

"Ara, the king is calling for you." Tani's timid voice called across the dewy field and both turned at the sound. The petite, darkhaired girl blushed prettily at the attention directed at her. She swallowed and focused dark eyes on Ara. "He says it's urgent."

Nodding, she barely spared the lord a glance before striding towards the young girl, hiding her dread. Even though it had been nearly two years ago that King Lothamin had found her in the desert he called his kingdom, she had never gotten used to him. She should be grateful; after all he had taken her in when she was on her own and with no previous memory of her life before then. He had offered her a place to stay and cared for her in exchange for work of course. Ara had readily agreed without asking what kind of work - but anything had sounded better than wandering around in the desert without any orientation whatsoever and with no recollection of how she had gotten there. And by the time they had arrived in his palace - for that was all the king's home could be called, all held in blinding white and oriental bursts of colour in between and bulbous roofs that seemed to be made from solid gold - it had been too late. Ara really should have known better by the lusty looks he had kept giving her all the time. Thank goodness she had discovered her skill with weapons, especially the sword - it had saved her from the fate of being one of his numerous concubines. Instead he had convinced her to stay as a dancer of some sorts; Dancer of Swords, he called her. But that didn't prevent him from trying to grope her anytime she was near.

Around that time, news had reached King Lothamin of his brother's death. By right of the royal family, the elder brother came into inherited all of the deceased siblings possessions if he or she had no descendants. As that had been the case with Zhenered, the king had immediately set out to go where his younger brother had disappeared to without a word, taking all his concubines and her with him. The journey had taken over a year before they finally came upon the Five Kingdoms, more specifically, Essetir, the kingdom which Zhenered had apparently seized from the rightful king years ago. That it wasn't actually a possession of Zhenered's didn't matter to him; he only wanted more land and power.

Lothamin had been planning to ambush Essetir's rightful and ruling heir when they had been stopped. That was how they had met the Lady Morgana, King Lothamin at first with a scowl and then a smile after disappearing into the royal's tent. Ara didn't want to know what they had been up to but it must have been something pleasing to the king's ears. It was only after they emerged that the lady had taken notice of Ara, first with shock and then anger with a think undercurrent of fear. Ara herself fared only a little better - she had a suspicion that she knew the woman from somewhere. "W-who is this, Your Grace?" the lady had stammered a little before shooting her a chilled smile. "I would like to know the names of my guests."

At her introduction she seemed startled. It took time for her to behave warmly toward Ara but she was glad it had happened; the lady almost seemed familiar from somewhere, and safe. Just like that red stone pendant she had had with her when she had been found.

But now it was the king who had called for her, not Lady Morgana. The closer Tani and Ara drew towards the heavy stone doors of the small keep - really more of a ruin but she thought it impolite to mention this to her - the king's and the lady's voices could be heard in hushed whispers.

"…need the girl." Lady Morgana was saying, almost pleadingly. "I know you like to keep her close but would you rather leave Essetir in that man's hands or send your Dancer? She will not come to any harm as long as you take the necessary precautions."

Tani threw Ara a fearful look who hid hers behind a reassuring smile. The lady had always been kind to her; now was the time to repay her. Nodding at Tani who took a deep breath before knocking, she cleared her throat.

"Ara is here." the petite girl's trembling voice announced, then sped out of the hall at the impatient wave Lothamin gave her. His dark eyes held a sense of annoyance, his clenched jaw emphasised this. Ara slid her icy blue eyes toward the lady who was smiling benevolently. She relaxed; if the lady looked this unconcerned it couldn't mean anything that bad despite the words she had had heard earlier.

"Ara, I have a favour to ask of you." Lady Morgana began with a slightly apologetic smile. Ara returned it confidently and stood even straighter than before. Ignoring the angry and even a tiny bit of worried expression Lothamin shot her, she answered.

"Anything, my lady."

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I'm already working on the next chapter so hopefully it won't be too long before I update again :)

Don't forget to review, reviews make me happy ;)


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